


The Archivist

by Kixxar



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-03-31 09:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3971953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kixxar/pseuds/Kixxar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>~ On hiatus because of school ~<br/>After Rumpelstiltskin learns of Belle's love of reading and knowledge, he takes her to a giant long-forgotten library that has been sealed shut for ages. It holds the entirety of knowledge across the realms and preserves the books written by past Authors. But he cannot get in; no one but the Archivist can open the doors. But before he knew it, Belle was already inside.</p><p>Semi-AU Pre-curse fused with elements from classic and pop culture fairy tales not seen in the series. Other featured fictions and characters not listed for spoiler reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Open the Doors, Turn the Page

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer(s): All respective Disney/Once Upon A Time characters belong to Disney/ABC/Kitsis/Horowitz; all other disclaimers at the bottom to avoid fanfic spoilers. There are no fan-made Original Characters featured in this fan fiction.
> 
> Rating may go up for future chapters. Teen and Up for mild language.
> 
>  **Update: I haven't abandoned The Archivist! I promise!  
> **  
>  Summer has proven to be very busy for me so far and I don't get much time to just sit and write; I just started it at a bad time it seems. And I started another Bachelors.

“Catching you playing with my things and not working is one thing, dearie, but catching you doing nothing and nothing is another!” The Dark One shrilled behind Belle, making her jump from her recline on the settee. She quickly recovered and resettled with her book in hand. 

“I’m not doing nothing, I am reading. And I already did my morning chores.” She retorted, chaffed at the idea that her reading would be considered as doing nothing. Did the silly girl know no fear of her master? “There’s that mouth again,” Rumpelstiltskin grumbled. “Not that I mind you reading, but why so much?” He began to prowl in front of the settee but nothing would unnerve his little maid. 

“Because I do, I think it is all very exciting. The adventures, the romance, the mystery… like the trips you take for your deals.” _That you don’t take me on…_

“Ha, there is no romance on my outings you silly thing.” He scoffed as he plopped himself on the other end of the settee. 

She shook her head with a smile, “Nonetheless, did you not expect me to enjoy the library you gave me?” 

“I expected you to clean it.” Rumpelstiltskin replied curtly. She just gave him a brilliant smile. 

“Of course. One page at a time.” Belle nodded before returning to her reading with a knowing smirk. He studied her as she read, not making it subtle as he usually did whenever he watched her. Not that he’d ever admit to watching her glide across the room as she dusted, the skirts of her dress swinging delicately against her legs, the soft sound of… 

“Is there anything else I can help with, Rumpelstiltskin?” Her lilting voice snapped him back into reality. He cocked his head to the side to mask his daze and grudgingly noted her smile meant she noticed anyway.  


_Well…_ “Actually, there is.” He jumped up from his perch and strode from the hall, “Come now! Keep up dearie!” 

Belle quickly marked her page and rushed after the imp. She soon found herself marching into his workshop behind him. She had only been allowed in here a few times, to deliver tea and supplies, and had then rushed out as soon as she had entered. Now she spun on her heel to get a good look at the place, her curiosity reaching critical levels. 

“We’re not here to gawk at the monster’s wares, dearie. I have something specific in mind that might interest you.” Rumpelstiltskin trilled. Belle turned to him and grinned, ignoring his ‘monster’ remark she hated so much. 

“Have you ever heard of The Archives?” He continued, giving the title a wave of his hand and a tone of mystery. 

She cocked her head to the side, “The what?” 

The Dark One scoffed, “What? Someone so well-read as you has never heard of The Archives, hmm? And here I thought you could help me.” He mocked. She scowled at him and folded her arms beneath her breasts, knowing he was piquing her curiosity and ire on purpose. He did his best to ignore the push her folded arms gave to her chest.  


“I would know better, perhaps, if my master would be so kind as to tell me rather than insult me. After all, you were the one who wanted my help, as you say.” Belle retorted despite her internal promise not to play his game. 

He laughed, “Very well. Sit.” He said, jabbing a finger at a stool beside his worktable. He turned to a dark bookshelf and pulled an old sooty tome from the bottom. He dropped the book on the table in front of her and chuckled when she sneezed and glared at him. 

“Some say that books are portals to other worlds, that they take us to new places never seen nor imagined before,” he began, standing behind her and flipping open the book’s faded pages. Belle tried not to blush with her master’s arms around her or his face looming so close to hers. “This much is true to the average reader and their own imaginations… however, that truth can be much more literal than that.” 

“What do you mean? This book is actually a portal?” Belle leaned forward earnestly, trying to read the jumbled ancient script scattered on the pages. In her excitement, it didn’t occur to her that she could possibly fall through said portal. 

“It was. Sadly, its power is gone now and is simply another book in the library. The only thing this book serve now for is this,” he flipped another page to a cutout holding a crudely-shaped ancient brass skeleton key, emblazoned with a hourglass and a book. He allowed her to take the key from its hidey-hole and examine it. 

“If there is a key, there must be something that it opens,” Belle whispered, mostly to herself. Rumpelstiltskin watched her fingers wander across the key and suddenly realized his close proximity to his maid. 

“Astute observation, dearie,” he said as he recoiled from her. “This key is the only one of its kind, the only key that can unlock the doors of The Archives.” He danced around her, gesturing to the grand purpose of the key. She looked at him curiously. 

“You have yet to tell me what the Archives are.” 

He turned back to her and grinned wickedly, “Better to show you.” 

Rumpelstiltskin snapped his fingers and he and his maid disappeared from his work tower. 

… 

Belle squealed when she landed on uneven ground and lost her footing. The purple haze of Rumpelstiltskin’s magic had barely faded when she felt his strong hands catch her from falling on her face. She looked up only to see a mocking grin spread across his features. 

“A warning would have been nice,” she grumbled as she pulled away and straightened her skirts. 

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled, “The Dark One doesn’t do nice, dearie.” 

“Where are we?” She asked, ignoring his comment and examining her surroundings. They were on the edge of a small ravine overlooking a clear downhill creak; looking out over the ridgeling was a massive expanse of dark dense forest, giving out to a spindly sound and the ocean that fed it. The coastline stretched from horizon to horizon, a thin white border between rolling blue and lush green as far as the eye can see. 

“This place is gorgeous Rumpel!” She exclaimed, forgetting herself and shortening his name. 

He appeared at her elbow and nudged her to turn, “Turn around.” He whispered. He was happy to see her excitement, happy to see that brilliant smile on her face and the light in her eyes… _stop it, you fool._

“Oh!” He heard her astonished claim. She stood open-mouthed staring up at the snow-capped flat-topped mountain that loomed over them, a sentinel of the forest untouched by man and teeming with magic. “Where are we?” 

“We are in the Forgotten Wood, a place beyond memory and long avoided by any sentient mortal and immortal being in all the realms; only lesser life wander and settle here. This place holds many an unfortunate memory for the elder powers of this world.” He replied, growing quieter as he spoke. 

“Except for you?” 

“Except for me,” he confirmed with a smile over his shoulder. “I made a deal with the goddess Athena of the Grecian region to the east for that key,” he continued and pointed to the key still clutched in Belle’s hand. “She thought she was getting the better end of the deal, since that key is more or less useless to anyone who wields it, and had laughed at me.” 

He began to walk away towards an outcropping on the other side of the ridgeline. “Then why deal for it when it is useless to you?” Belle asked, quickly following her master. “And why did you bring us here? What does this key have to do with this forest? Why bring us to an old volca- oof!” 

She slammed face first into her master’s chest, not having noticed he had stopped and spun around to face her. He steadied her with his strong practiced hands and giggled. 

“So many questions dearie!” The Dark One trilled and stepped lightly away from his maid once she was steady. “Look…” He gestured wide behind her, a pleased smile splitting his features. She spun again on her heel and nearly stopped breathing at the sight before her. 

On the other side of the outcropping was an enormous set of white marble hewn doors fit into the mountainside; grey rusted iron fittings adorned the doors in swirling filigree centered on the small knockers and a keyhole near ground-level. Flanking the doors were two large worn marble statues that looked as if they had once been dragons set upon with the harshness of the elements. In the claws of the left dragon was a broken bronze contraption, strange symbols lined the top and bottom edges or were half buried in the glittering sand piled before it. The right dragon held a bronze effigy of a book and pen, the etched symbols long worn away and the pages tarnished or corroded; the head was gone as was its wings, the latter also being true of the statue’s twin whose facial features and tail have long been lost. 

Belle stepped cautiously across the overgrowth that broke the fine paved mural of marble beneath her feet, depicting what seemed to be an elaborate compass rose that curiously was not pointing north. Each point had a symbol and those that were still whole enough to make out were of no language she was familiar with. 

“Welcome to the Archives.” Rumpelstiltskin whispered close behind her. She jumped having not realized he had followed her wanderings across the yard. 

“This…” she breathed in astonishment, “This is incredible!” 

“Behind these doors lies the most massive amount of knowledge you will ever find across any known realm or world you will ever find yourself in. Here was where history, science, academia, culture, language, art, music, legend, and imagination was collected and studied. It was kept solely by the Archivist, a worldly scholar who once held open the doors to the world and anyone seeking higher learning and diversity.” Rumpelstiltskin told his maid in gusto, making her practically salivate for the treasures beyond as she finally placed her free hand against the white marble. 

“Only I could never get inside.” 

Belle balked at his ending statement and looked at him incredulously, “Oh! Why the hell not?!” she swore at him, “You have the key! It obviously goes to this door, correct?” 

Rumpelstiltskin giggled, “Indeed dearie. But I told you it was useless to any that hold it.” He only partially felt bad for dangling a golden carrot before his maid as he turned away from her distress, much like many paths to portals turned out to be dangling carrots for him. “Only the Archivist can use the key, only the keeper of the knowledge beyond can open these doors. And there hasn’t been an Archivist in thousands of years, not since the Cataclysm.” 

“Why is that then? It opened just fine for me.” He went rigid at the unexpected echo Belle’s unexpected reply had. As he had his back turned, he failed to notice that she had jammed the key into the door in her frustration and turned it. The door had opened on remarkably-silent hinges just enough for her to slip through and he had turned around in time enough to see her chestnut curls disappear behind the white behemoth doors. 

“Belle!” 

Rumpelstiltskin ran in after her, barely squeezing through the crack in the door and falling into a massive fire-lit foyer. Unlike outside, the cavernous foyer seemed untouched by time; three fires blazed majestically in massive stone braziers, each between large bronze statues. The first two statues directly in front of him were copies of what the two statues in the courtyard would have been: proud dragons holding the brazier between them and an open book and a clockwork hourglass separately aside. The pairs of statues to his right and left, similarly holding the braziers aloft between them, were grimalkin and wolves respectively – the grimalkin rested their free paws on large black and white orbs of marble and the wolves cradled silver swords. The two empty spaces between featured silk tapestries of a fox, rabbit, otter, and an eagle dancing with the elements of the seasons. The ceiling was painted with the celestial sky, each constellation subtly imposed with their representative stars; the mural on the floor reflected the local solar system. 

“Belle?” he called again. His calls became deafening in the gleaming mountain hall and echoed through the stairwells that led out from between each of the statues. The stairwell that led from between the dragons led up toward the summit while the stairwells between the cats and wolves led into the heart of the volcano. 

“Rumpelstiltskin! You have to come see this!” Belle’s call came in reply. The only problem is that it seemed to be coming from everywhere. The Dark One growled and ran forth up the dragon stairs. He came out to an open balcony that overlooked the bowels of the library and nearly doubled over the stone railing at what he was seeing. 

He had heard the Archives were a colossal collection of tomes and artifacts - he had heard they contained the recorded histories of many worlds - long lost magics, arts, and lore. But this? He caught his breath and looked over the labyrinthine book-laden halls above and below, softly lit by multi-hued torches and the smoldering heart of the volcano, twisting over each other and through nonsensical stairwells and arches in ways that would make Escher dizzy. 

How the flying hell was he going to find his bookworm maid in this? 

… 

Belle was nearly blind with joy as she glided along the shelves, gently brushing her fingers across the timeless spines of the countless books before her. She grew up with her mother’s large library, and then was given a larger library in the Dark Castle not too long ago. Now Rumpelstiltskin shows her the single largest collection of books the wide worlds has ever seen? Her heart and soul could nearly burst with happiness and… 

She stopped herself. She wasn’t afraid of him, of that she was certain. Oh he would startle her every so often, his favorite pastime with her in the castle now, but he never struck fear or hate in her heart like he did to the rest of the world. She wanted to know him better, of course – was a complete mystery, a puzzle she ached to solve, layers she wanted to peel back – and perhaps call him friend. She bit her lip and blushed as her heart pounded in protest with her reasoning but before she could start analyzing why she felt her blood start to rush at the thoughts of her master, a simple brown leather book with gold lettering caught her eye. It wasn’t an author she had ever heard of before and it felt strange on her tongue. 

“Shakespeare?” 

She sat down cross-legged in the middle of the hall with the book and flipped it open. As she began to read, she felt her stomach drop, but was far too engrossed with the prose to pay it any mind. The words were beautiful and she could almost smell the forest and hear the birds and music described within the pages.  


She blinked and realized that was exactly what she could smell and hear. Not to mention her skirts were now damp from sitting in soft dewy grass that definitely was not there a few seconds ago. 

“Well it is about bloomin’ time!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be a bit long winded as it sets up some background and mythology for the story. Hang in there with me! R&R please. :)


	2. Locked Away, Long Forgotten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer(s): All respective Disney/Once Upon A Time characters belong to Disney/ABC/Kitsis/Horowitz; all other disclaimers at the bottom to avoid fanfic spoilers. There are no fan-made Original Characters featured in this fan fiction.
> 
> Rating may go up for future chapters. Teen and Up for occasional mild language.

“I didn’t think you were going to make it back. I’m surprised my husband didn’t-“ 

Belle looked up from where she sat. A dark-skinned fairy with silvery grey eyes, white wavy hair, and adorned in a white flower dress hovered over her, looking at her curiously. A small vial of baby-blue fairy dust dangled around her neck on a silver chain and baby-blue roses crowned her silvery tresses. 

“Who the bloomin’ hell are you?” the fairy trilled, crossing her arms beneath her breast and fluttered closer to Belle’s level. 

“My name is Belle. Who are you? I-I’ve never seen or heard of a fairy like you before.” 

“Oh? Never heard of the White Fairy? Titania, the Queen of the Fae?” The fairy was eye level with Belle now, looking quite put out and peering at her skeptically. 

“N-no, I am sorry ma’am, I mean, Your Majesty. I have heard of the Blue Fairy though.” Belle replied in hopes the fairy would stop her close scrutiny. 

The White Fairy scoffed, “Oh, Rhuel Ghorm. She’s my sister.” The fairy turned away grumbling something unpleasant. 

“She’s your sister? I didn’t know that fairies-“ 

“She isn't still hovering about the stacks is she? She’s locked us in this old prose while all others can still frolic about so long as they swear fealty to her. She never did enjoy being second…” 

“Wait, wait… what? In a prose? Where am I?” Belle asked, getting up and brushing off her skirts, “I was just exploring the library and started reading a book I’ve never seen before. Rumpel was… wait, Rumpel!?” 

Belle spun away to call for her master and stopped short to finally take in her surroundings. She was in a field swimming with colorful wildflowers and dotted with blooming weeping willows and wisteria. Rumpelstiltskin was nowhere in sight. 

“Rumpelstiltskin!” She cried out across the glade. The White Fairy hovered over Belle’s shoulder. 

“Who is this Rumpel-whosits you are calling for, Belle?” 

“Rumpelstiltskin. He is my master, the Dark One.” Belle replied offhandedly, she continued her call for him. Titania bristled. 

“The Dark One? The Corrupted Sorcerer? But he…” The White Fairy trailed off. The girl wasn't listening. Titania shook her head. “I have never heard of Rumpelstiltskin before.” 

“How could you not?” Belle said incredulously, spinning again to face the fairy. “He hated fairies for one, and he’s centuries old… many have heard of him and his deals. He is legendary.” 

“Honey, I’ve been locked in here for ages.”

Belle frowned, “You’ve mentioned that. Where is here?”

“ _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ , to be precise. A masterful screen-play by the Author Shakespeare long ago, featuring myself and my estranged husband. He was my favorite Author; I told him many stories of the Fae…” Titania trailed off dreamily. Belle blinked. 

“I’m… in a book.” 

“Yes.” 

“How is that even possible?” Belle reeled, sitting down and looking about her again, “This doesn’t look like any-“ _Some say that books are portals to other worlds_ , Rumpelstiltskin’s words echoed through her head. “A portal, the book was a portal. So he was right.” 

“Who was right, honey?” 

“Rumpelstiltskin. He said that books can be portals to other worlds, if they had the power for it.” Belle supplied, standing up again. She took a moment to breathe and not freak out before turning back to the White Fairy. 

“I need to get out, back to The Archives.” Belle declared to the fairy. Titania blinked. 

“I beg your pardon, honey? Out of the book?” Titania looked about her as if making sure no one was about. “You mean you aren’t just page-jumping? You’re not from another book of the Fae or a history tome?” 

“No. I live at the Dark Castle with Rumpel; formerly a lady of Avonlea before I made a deal with him.” 

Titania’s jaw dropped, “You’re from the Outside… How’d you get into The Archives? Some of the gods still around said it was sealed thousands of years ago. Only the Archivist can get in.” 

Belle shrugged, “I don’t know, Rumpel had the key. I love books and learning; when he told me about this place I couldn’t stay away even if he said he couldn’t get in himself. He must have been turning the key wrong, it opened fine for me.” 

“Right…” the fairy mused. The fairy paused to think a moment, occasionally looking around and glancing at Belle. When the maiden began to huff impatiently, Titania fluttered closer. 

“I know a way out. I can help you, if you can help me.” Belle nodded, “Of course.” 

“Listen, Belle honey, there is this trinket called the Archivist’s Amulet hidden away in the farthest reaches of the Fae section. The location is known to only three creatures, separately, so it never falls into the wrong hands.” Titania explained. “That amulet will give you willpower over the pages and get you out.” 

“Sounds easy enough.” 

Titania nodded, “Indeed. I will help you find it, if you will help me out of here. Agreed?” 

“Agreed.” Belle smiled and held her hand out. Titania looked at it curiously. 

“What are you doing?” 

“O-oh, a hand shake.” Belle replied, hesitantly taking her hand back, “when two people make an agreement or a deal, they usually shake hands.” 

The White Fairy giggled, “That’s silly. A fairy’s word is her bond. A bond of magic is very powerful, and all magic comes with a price. Breaking that bond can reap a terrible price, one I am not willing to pay. Are you?” 

“No,ma’am, uh – Your Majesty. I hold true to my promises.” Belle replied quickly with a curtsy.

Titania giggled again, “None of this ‘ma’am’ or ‘Your Majesty’ nonsense from you; you may call me Tia.” 

“Alright, Tia. Where to?” 

“To an old friend of mine - Eiddileg the Orange.” 

… 

“So, where am I exactly? I mean, in the book? I have never heard of Shakespeare before.” Belle inquired as she and Tia set of northward. Many of the flowers, smaller fae folk Tia had explained when Belles face lit in wonder, scurried to the side of the path as Belle and their queen approached. Tia settled herself on Belle’s shoulder. 

“You are in a fairy glade. One of many… or what used to be many.” Tia began sadly. “See beyond the glade, out toward the forest? It all used to be flowering trees, tall oaks, and majestic pines. The glades stretched beyond the forest into the moors and touched other fae kingdoms. Over the millennia they've been degraded to more moor and swamp; save this spit of land.” She ended bitterly, almost to herself. 

“The land changes over time.” Belle tried to reason, as if to cheer her, “It may change back again. The lands of Avonlea are half swamp; the fiefdom my father lords over is mostly marshland. It has its own beauty, and dangers – like the hinkypunks. It used to be a desert basin, some time ago.” 

Tia shook her head, “Fairy glades and forests don’t change, Belle honey. We, the Fae, maintain it as eternally as our lives are. It only changes at our will.” 

Belle looked out toward the forested swamps and watched the greenish mists swirl around the trees. She shook her head in curiosity, “Then why change this? You don’t sound like you enjoy the marsh much.” 

“I-“ 

“That is an excellent question. Why, my love, do you not enjoy my work? It isn’t easy turning so much beautiful lush into glorious decay,” an oily voice dripped from behind them. Belle turned as the White Fairy shot up from her shoulder and glared at their unwelcome visitor. Fluttering gently above them on sheer black wings sneered a male fairy; athletically built and draped in dark red, silver, and black silk robes; he had pale greyish skin, black eyes, and sleek black hair that fell over his brow. From the back of his head sprouted a pair of twisted horns and was crowned with a wreath of red leaves. 

“Oh, and do tell her about your dearest Shakespeare. I’d love to hear that story again – you know, what really happened to him,” he continued, smiling smugly at the White Fairy. Tia glowed hot with anger. 

“Oberon.” She growled. “What are you doing here? Haven’t you taken enough?” 

“Tut tut, my love. Can’t a husband visit his wife? Particularly when said wife has acquired a lovely new companion.” Oberon now turned his hungry gaze onto Belle and the maiden in question felt chills crawl up her spine. “Who might you be my dear?” 

“I-“ Belle began. Tia darted between her and Oberon. 

“Just a mortal page-jumper. I am taking her to Omwood to be my new servant. As you’ve taken and killed my last virgin maid, I’m in need of a new one.” The Fae Queen growled. Belle paled. 

Oberon chuckled darkly, “You seem to be mistaken, dear wife. The girl came to me.” He turned back to Belle, “Allow me to introduce myself, since my queen rudely neglected to do so. I am Oberon the Black, High King of the Fae.” He gave a flourishing bow to her, which only infuriated Tia more. 

Belle curtsied out of habit and stumbled upright, unsure what to make of this fairy… a _male_ fairy. She didn’t know they existed, “My name is-“ 

“Don’t answer him, honey.” Tia snapped over her shoulder, her eyes never leaving her husband’s form. 

“Oh Tia, my love, where in Summer’s name have your manners gone.” 

“Shut it Obie, and leave us! Come along, honey.” Tia lowered herself to Belle’s level and began herding her down the path, still not letting Oberon out of her sight. He continued to hover in place, all smug grin and dark eyes, and watched them trudge through the sunlight. Once they disappeared over the hill, he settled himself on the ground. 

Many of the lesser fae fled at his presence save a few Thistle Pixies and Dandelion Sprites. 

“Muckle. What did you hear?” 

One of the Thistle Pixies rushed forward at his masters bidding, “The mortal’s name is Belle.” 

“Fitting. And? 

“Uh… sir, um…” Muckle stammered and wrung his hands nervously. He knew his master would not like what the White Fairy was doing. 

“She’s not from around here sir-“ 

“Obviously, you idiot! What the hell does my wife think she is doing passing mortals through my pages?” 

“She is taking her to get the Amulet. The mortal is from Outside.” A Dandelion spoke. Muckle cowered back to the safety of his brethren. 

Oberon froze, “What?” 

The hapless dandelion didn’t have enough time to dodge Oberon’s grasp when the fairy king glowed black with rage. “No! Tia cannot be so foolish to believe I will let this happen! It cannot happen! They are gone! Intervus is gone! The other three never cared to get a new one! These are my kingdoms, my books, my Archives!” 

By the time his tirade was done, the Dandelion was too. The pixie fell limply to the ground and Oberon flittered into the air again, looking out to where his wife and her new ‘servant’ had disappeared. 

“Muckle. Find Puck, I have a task for him.” 

… 

“You apparently don’t get along.” 

Tia huffed from her perch on Belle’s shoulder, having resettled herself now that they left her husband behind. “That is putting it lightly, Belle honey. He should have done us all a favor and perished in the Cataclysm; Osiris knows he deserved such a fate more than the others.” 

“Rumpelstiltskin mentioned this 'cataclysm', now you have and yet I have not read anything about it.” 

“Odd. There are a few tomes and journals around that describe the events. I wouldn't be surprised though if all of such accounts never made it back out of The Archives.” 

“Rumpel did say this place hold unfortunate memories for those who could remember. What happened?” 

The White Fairy’s natural glow dimmed, “Your sorcerer would be right. They are unfortunate memories. I suppose a summary of events before would be best: 

There were ten Celestials, ageless entities that together made up the worlds’ energy cycles as we know to be the seasons, time, fate, and magic. All but Life and Death took physical form in our world to walk among us, to spread magic and the ability to control the magic. Spirits, gods, fairies, and monsters began to evolve; courts were established among the mortal and immortal souls; and four among the mortals were chosen to provide regulation and wisdom to their kith and kin in the ways of magic and change - they were the Sorcerer, his Apprentice, the Author, and the Archivist. 

Dark sentiments began to stir among the immortals and other magic users; they became dissatisfied that they were bound by the Laws of Magic as laid down by the Celestials while they themselves remained above them. The Sorcerer and his Apprentice created a powerful object - a hat that could suck the mystical energy from any being. The Celestials were pure energy, despite being in physical form, and they began to disappear. It began with the Seasonal Elements – fire, water, air, and earth – and the seasonal cycles became irregular and the elements volatile. 

I saw this. I told them to stop and what they were doing was wrong, but it was an unpopular opinion. Many of the Fae courts, gods, monsters, spirits, and all stayed behind the Sorcerer’s plan – including my sister, Rhuel Ghorm, and my husband. They stopped me from warning the other Celestials and soon the brothers Time and Destiny disappeared in the hat; stories went wrong, knowledge went upside down, time de-synched with the heavens. Dark and Light Magic, lovers they were, had stayed away from the affairs of the courts until their peers had vanished and the worldly energies teetered dangerously off balance. Light Magic came close to investigate, and she got caught. 

I saw her demise and it broke my heart. Many from the Fae and godly courts gathered around to watch as the Sorcerer held some kris dagger above her to release her from the body, and had the hat ready to absorb the essence of Light Magic. The chosen Archivist and Author were detained beside me, the former held by her lover, the first Dark One, and the latter beaten and broken, having protested as I had. 

When Light Magic had gone, I heard an unearthly roar. The ground began to shake, and many of the pure Light Magic creatures began to twist and fade; the lesser ones went out faster than the elders. I felt it, the magic upended and unbalanced, finally tipping the world energies over the edge. Kingdoms shattered, worlds sundered, time suspended in some and slowed in others; creatures were mutilated, the courts fell apart, the mortal realms were scattered. 

Rhuel Ghorm and my husband took each other as lovers, her more for infatuation and him just to spite me, and together they took advantage of confusion and pain to grab supremacy in the courts - to shut me and the other elders out. But then Rhuel had other ideas; while the remains of the courts hid in the Archives with the Archivist’s blessing, she trapped us all into stories written about us by previous Authors. The Archivist was killed by her own lover while Rhuel had turned on us and we’ve been here ever since. 

I only know what the doors were sealed from the gods and other entities that also took sanctuary within the mountain; they’ll get bored enough with each other every so often to open the books and talk with us, but they cannot get us out. Only the Archivist can and another one was not chosen to take her place.” 

“That is quite the story. I’m sorry.” Belle took Titania in her hands and cradled her when she noticed tears in the fairy’s eyes. “No wonder none had returned here after.” 

“We lost so many of the fae… my people. I do not know what became of those left outside.” 

“Everything is stable now. The kingdoms are thriving for the most part, there are many fairies and they are led by the Blue Fairy,” Belle tried to reassure her - Titania huffed at her sister’s common moniker. Belle continued, “The dwarves are mining diamonds for their fairy dust to keep everything balanced and working, and darkness is continuously defeated-“ 

“The dwarves are doing _what_?” Tia shrieked as she shot from Belle’s hand and glowed hot. “Why the bloomin’ hell are they doing that?” 

“To get fairy dust,” the maid repeated, unsure why that would upset the fairy queen so much. “They are supposed to be great masters and craftsmen of the earth and its natural treasures! Not miners and slavers for the fairies! Our own pixies are supposed to gather our own damned dust! It isn’t hard!” 

Belle straightened herself against Tia’s outburst, “Well don’t yell at me for it. All I know is that is how that has always been, at least from what I’ve read.” “Sorry honey,” Tia faded a bit from her anger and landed on Belle’s shoulder again as the maid continued down the path. “I know it isn’t you, if anything this is my sister’s doing. Damn her. 

“How did this Rumpelstiltskin become the Dark One? He wasn’t when I knew the Dark One. The one I knew was named Faust.” 

“I’m not sure nor do I think he will respond well if I ask him. Rumpel is cagey about details of himself even if he knows I mean him no ill will.” 

Tia perked up at that, “Oh?” 

Belle blushed, “It isn’t like that. He is just my master and I his maid.” 

“But he brought you especially to the Archives; what do the other servants think of this hmm? They are infamous for gossip.” 

“Oh… no, it is just the two of us.” 

Tia looked at her with an eyebrow raised, “Oh honey, he’s got it bad for you.” 

“What? No. No, he couldn’t. It is impossible.” 

“The lass doth protest too much. He likes you. He wants to make you happy. What do you think of him?” 

“I-I don’t know… that is inappropriate.” Belle blushed harder. 

“Mmm hmm - well, I will let you be on it, honey. For now. We’re here.” 

“Where is here?” Belle looked out over the last hill of the moor they had crossed. The moor looked over glittering fields of green and thick forests. Just over the horizon she could spy a darkened wasteland and spired canyons. 

“Prydain. Come along and meet some of the surviving courts! Eiddileg would love to have you as a guest. At least now that he’s been bullied to be more hospitable.” Tia murmured the last bit to herself and flittered above Belle’s head. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somebody has marital issues and has to poke into other people's love lives - and we meet our story's main ~~douchebag~~ antagonist. I hope you like my spin on the Black and White fairies, and etc. Shady fairies are shady.
> 
> Pardon the convoluted-ish background info - I will soon begin posting a reading companion to this fanfiction in case anyone is curious of my headcanon lore for The Archivist (for EF in OUaT) and to keep track of characters as they appear in the story. **Any questions can be asked and will be answered in there.** :)
> 
> Cookies to who knows which set of books/Author we are visiting in the fae kingdom next!
> 
> Additional Disclaimers:  
> Titania/Oberon/ _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ are characters/works originally written by William Shakespeare.

**Author's Note:**

> Updated on Mondays as best as I can
> 
> R and R Please :)
> 
>  **Update: I haven't abandoned The Archivist! I promise!  
> **  
>  Summer has proven to be very busy for me so far and I don't get much time to just sit and write; I just started it at a bad time it seems. And I started another Bachelors.


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